Sleepwalking
by PencilChewer
Summary: Bring Me The Horizon, Sleepwalking, songfic. "She was his anchor, his lifeline that kept him rooted in his spot and running for his money..."


**A/N: Not mine, everything JK. Rowling's and BMTH.**

* * *

_My secrets are burning a hole through my heart_  
_And my bones catch a fever_  
_When it cuts you up this deep_  
_It's hard to find a way to breathe_

"Wh-what?" James staggered back, blinking twice and hardly hearing whatever was going around him, the whispers of the talking portraits surrounding him, and the failed attempt at hitching a gasp from beside him. His blood was pounding in his ears, his face heating up with anger and disbelief, and his eyes welling in angry tears. This couldn't be. They couldn't…

"Mr. Potter, I'm sorry," Dumbledore whispered from behind his desk, and James could see that he was. His eyes, they held something; pity, perhaps, maybe sympathy. But he didn't want it, because it's not true. It can't be.

"No, y-you've got it wrong. You're lying. This is some sort of sick joke, isn't it? Some sort of bloody trick," James hissed back at him, swallowing the bile from his throat as he ran his fingers through his hair roughly.

"Potter," McGonagall tried, standing up from the seat in front of Dumbledore's desk and attempting to put a hand on his shoulder, but he recoiled back into himself, shaking his head quickly.

"No. _No_! Shut up! No! You're lying! Th-they can't!" He took a sharp intake of breath before he turned and slammed his fist into the wall behind him in fury. "Don't lie to me!"

"Potter!" McGonagall said sternly and loudly but stayed where she was and he didn't care, her hands folded together so tightly, her bony knuckles were white.

James sank to the floor and shook his head, hugging his knees to his chest and resting his forehead on them before he let out a quiet sob, tear after tear rolling down his cheeks and into his lap, but he couldn't care. They were gone. That's it.

He was walking in the hallways and up the staircases mindlessly after McGonagall had fixed his open knuckles, but pulled his hand away when she started wiping the blood. He didn't know why, maybe to remind him that it wasn't a nightmare and it was like an anchor that kept him tied to the ground, to reality. It happened, they're gone.

The whispers, the looks, he didn't care. He couldn't, why should he? They're gone, they've left him and no one understands what he's going through. He brushed past student after student, people who were going to dinner or up to their dorms. Those people were looking at him and whispering behind their hands and to their friends, the Quidditch Captain, the Head Boy, crying and bloody and lifeless.

It's almost like he was sleepwalking through the halls. He can't breathe; his lungs must have stopped working when he heard the news. He can't see from his tears. He can't hear from his heart pounding in his ears. He needs something besides his blood on his fist to anchor him to the world. He needed something else; he needed someone to help clear his mind.

But he didn't know where she is, he can't find her. She wasn't in the sea of students; her red hair would've stood out.

He needed fresh air.

James headed to the only place he could think of, the only place where he knows no one will hear him scream, will see him collapse in his tears.

He rushed up the stairs like a ghost, not listening, even though there's nothing to listen to, the chatter of the students died on his way up the Astronomy Tower. He couldn't see either, but it was too dark anyway.

He gasped for breath, his fingers desperately tugging at his tie and unbuttoning his top button, swallowing hard as he pushed the door up and clambered up the stairs and to the balcony, his lungs filling with fresh air and his heart beating and beating loudly like a mantra.

He clasped his hands over his ears as he screamed and screamed, his body flung over the balcony separating him from the highest jump he could make in the castle. He screamed and screamed, unable to stop until his throat protested and he choked.

James collapsed onto the floor, his long and thin fingers curling around the bars of the balcony and his forehead pressed against the cool surface of the pillar beside him. He gasped for breath before a wave of fresh tears started flowing, unable to stop.

What's going to happen to him? How will he survive?

_That's a bullshit question_, he told himself. He has money that would last his great grandchildren a life time. He has a house, empty and awaiting his sentence; whether for it to be destroyed and handed to Ministry's custody or for it to be lived in, another family to hold and cherish.

But his family is gone…

"Gone, gone, gone…" he kept repeating, even when his voice choked and he sobbed and he clutched the railings and he shook and shuddered and swallowed and –

"James…"

It was his anchor, his lifeline. It was his Lily.

"Lily," he whispered, his voice cracked as he looked up at her from where he was sitting in a feeble position on the floor.

Lily stared at him and her heart broke. She rushed to him from her place by the door and gathered him in her arms, rocking them back and forth and whispering in his ear, brushing his hair back and kissing his head.

"They're gone, Lils. What am I going to do?" he whispered when he finally calmed, a long while afterwards.

"Sweetheart, you know exactly what to do," she told him, kissing his temple and rubbing her hands up his arms and over the back of his neck, down his spine and back up his arms, repeating the soothing cycle over and over. "Your parents loved you to their last breath, and no matter where they are they still do."

James wrapped his arms around her middle and pressed his face further into the crook of her neck, closing his eyes and letting her steady heartbeat soothe him.

"I know. I know. It's just… unexpected. They were supposed to live for another year. The Healer promised me…"

"My love, it's their time," Lily whispered, holding his chin in her forefinger and thumb. "Would you rather they suffer for another year or be peaceful wherever they are?"

He sighed and shook his head. "Second one."

She kissed his forehead and pulled him into a hug, sighing and playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"You are so loved, James. So many people adore you. They cherish you so much, Sirius, Remus, Peter, Marlene…"

"Funny how you didn't mention yourself," he said, cracking a smile.

Lily laughed her sing-song laugh, shaking her head and smiling. "I don't know. I'm pretty sure if you would've let me continue I would've included myself in there."

James sighed and hugged her close. Oh, how he loved her. The way her laugh would make him smile; even in the shittiest situations, the way her touch made his racing heart calm. She was his anchor, his lifeline that kept him rooted in his spot and running for his money. She was the one whose hand he'd take to help him pull him up out of a dark hole. She was his, and he was hers.

"I love you, you know," James whispered after a moment of silence.

"I know…" She smiled to herself, kissing the tuft of black hair on his head.

"You're supposed to say you love me too…"

"Really? I didn't know I signed a contract," she replied, smiling and ruffling his hair.

"Well, you did. When you decided you wanted to go out with me, remember?" he said, his head back in the crook of her neck.

"Mm… no, actually. I don't. Why would I want to date someone with hair like this?" she teased, her fingers running through his hair.

James wrinkled his nose and frowned at her. "You're supposed to be comforting me, Evans, not teasing me."

"I'm sorry, love, I'm sorry. I'm just trying to lighten the mood here." Lily smiled down at him innocently and spread her legs out in front of her, letting him settled in between them, his back to her chest.

James pulled her arms around his front and he closed his eyes and leaned his head back.

"I do love you though," Lily whispered, kissing his head.

"I know…"

_Time stood still_

_The way it did before_

_It's like I'm sleepwalking…_


End file.
